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16—47372-2 




HOUSES 
OF CLAY 

DON MORRISON 



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That, that makes us greater 
Than our body's dust, 
Is the Soul that prays 

Within its House of Clay. 



To Elbert Hubbard 

Deeply I remember one walk with you, 
And once I played a simple air, you cried: 
Those two times I knew you 
And always since have loved you. 

Oberlin, 1916 Don Morrison 



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Houses of Clay 




50 Cents the Copy 

The Roycrofters, East Aurora, N. Y. 






coptright, 1916, 
By The Rotcrofters 



JAN~2i9l7 



©Gi,A45066o 



Contents 



Faith Page 11 

The Crucifix " 13 

The Crucible " 15 

Quest " 17 

Morning " 19 

Noon " 21 

Evening __ " 23 

Virtue " 25 

Simple Aveu " 27 

Nocturne.... " 29 

Man and Woman " 31 

In The Night " 33 

The Gift of Pain " 35 

Love and Life " 37 

Yesterdays..... " 39 

La Voyageur " 41 

Who Are The Blind? " 43 

Optimists " 45 



© 



Faith 



'ROW day by day 
as the Rose unfolds 

Nor care to know 
nor reason all: 

Content to fill 
each petal fair 

With God's sweet 

Fragrance, everywhere. 




11 



The Crucifix 



OMETIMES I come and 

Stand beneath the Cross 
And look into Your eyes 

So sadly gazing down: 
And that which seemed 

Unbearable Pain, 
Becomes as nothing 

To that You bear. 

The thing I would have 

Prayed of You 1 leave unsaid, 
For by Your need my own 

Seems such a mite of woe: 
And yet I know within 

Your heart You heard, 
For in Your eyes are all the 
Love and longing of a World. 




"^^^ 



13 



Q 



The Crucible 



PT on broad Mountain-Heights 

But out of the deep of Valleys 

Comes Truth Divine: 
Never kissed is the hand that strikes, 

For Servility is No-man's God: 
Yet blows bring Truth untold 

While caress yields only caress. 

Not some vast, fertile Plain 

But a jagged Crater's mouth 

Belching its roaring might: 
Deep within hurl each Human wish, 

Each trembling Rose of Desire: 
And as their smoke flings upward 

Know at last Earth's Verities, 

Gentle, yielding Flowers ; Fields, Trees, 

Vast Sky-loft and endless living Seas : 
These shall know and speak to you, 

For they transcend the realm of Self : 
And all you believe, all you defend. 

Shall learn of them 

Where Love and Wisdom meet. 



15 



Quest 




HE first breath, the last, 
And all that lies between: 

Whatever we have to give or take 
Comes to us by Quest. 

The Lives, Laws, Precepts, 
Which we assume, these 

Are the Foods of growth: 
Desire is the Water of Life. 




17 



Morning 



n 



ARK, the myriad Earth-Host 

Is moving 'neath the Dark and Light: 
For each one, full-timed. 

Quest prepares the table with Food 
And starts out to fill the Jug of Life. 

Quest Calling: 

" With Lust or Love 
Shall I fill his cup : 
With Passion or with Praying, 

Who '11 lead to the Living Stream? 

" Deep in the chaos of moving feet 
Someone there in the moving Host 
Is calling and answering this one's need: 
Who '11 bind the loosened thread of Fate? 




19 



a 



Noon 



CQUmiNG fair Freedom's estate 
And reasoning living perfect, so, 

And paid, the price, 

Ever plenty the Food lies ready. 

Full is the Jug from the Wells of Lust. 

Quest Calling : 

" Over the pathless Field, 

On, through the Starless Night, 
With beating Heart, and falt'ring step. 

Who '11 leave the echoing tread of millions? 

" Out into rolling Meadows, 
On, to distant Foot-Hills: 
Up the rugged side of Life, 
Who '11 step aside the smooth-worn way? " 






21 



Evening 



H 



EAPING high the Passionate Fires 
And casting within the Seed of Life, 

And seen, the gray-dead Ash, 
Ever now the Food lacks salt, 

Stale is the water from the Jug of Life. 

Quest Calling: 

' Without the pathless Night, 

Sure on the smooth-worn way, 
With Loving Heart and unfalt'ring step. 
Who hears in the echoing tread of millions? 

Far past the flashing heights of Fame, 
To the tear-dimmed Rock of Ages: 

Whose the hand, whose the voice, 

Who is God's messenger to lead the way? " 




9 



Virtue 



LONE, on a Sea of hands, 

Hands of Men, 

Like hounds pursuing: 
As Mothers first see 

Their new-born babe. 
And the Dying last look 

On the One they Love, 
So he, silent, adoring. 

Beheld Her. 




25 



Simple Aveu 



I 



F I do not seek Thee now. 
Who are so rare, so good. 

Think me not slow to know. 
Nor cautious, nor cold: 



Believe some deeper Flower 

Is lifting in the Soul 
That bids me by its radiant beauty 

A Selfless reverence yield. 

If I can not claim Thee now 
Who are so fair in Virtue's eyes, 

Think of the depths we go 
Not heeding, nor cold: 

Yet these same depths are lifting 
In the Soul this wondrous Flower 

That tells me in its clearest beauty 
A Selfless Love to learn. 




27 



Nocturne 



OFT the Sea is breathing, dear, 
Dim the Night-light folds about: 

In the waters Stars are resting. 
On your breast a child is sleeping. 

Far the lights are passing, dear, . 

Low the voiceless Tides commune: 
In the harbor ships are lying, 

In your Heart a life is loving. 




29 



I 



Man and Woman 



T is the Love of the Woman for the Man that keeps her: 
No matter how wonderful the Love of the Man for her, 
How deep, how tender; unless she have her own Love 
for him. 
He can not hold, nor can she stay. 



The Love of the Woman for the Man is s"upreme : 
Even if he have not a great Love in his Heart, 

Her power of Loving is superhuman, and she can both 
Hold and keep, if she so desire. 




31 



In the Night 



I 



WALKED the upper deck 
And saw the hurled-up black smoke 
Leapmg, lifting among the Stars, 
Sweeping back to kiss the Sea: 



And as it mingled with the waters 

I thought of all the untold years it waited 

Blindly waited for the hand that freed it, 
For the fires that gave it Birth. 

I have touched your lips 

And seen the up-flung Soul awake, 
Inspiring, revealing in Deathless beauty 

The face of a woman Loved and Loving: 

And as I looked upon its glory 

I thought of all the ages we had waited, 
Continents, races, lives between. 

And the wondrous, Eternal Law of Love. 




The Gift of Pain 



|HE sabres of a regiment 

Plunge into my living body, 
Bring the interminable moment 

Of their onward rush: 
In vigor and Life, 

Young years facing Death, 
Give me the full Pain of dying 

That I may know for Immortal Time 
How great it is to Live, 

How precious the Love of a Woman, 
How sacred the Gift of her cherishing. 




35 



Love and Life 



|OME fight and smile, nor fear the thrust 
That puts them by and brings to them 
The gift of Death: 
Yet Life is all so dear to me, 
I cling to it, and will not let it go. 

Some Love and smile, nor care the hour 
When Love goes by the other way 
And looks for newer Loves: 
Yet You I can not, will not leave, 
For You are Love and Life itself. 




37 



Yesterdays 



HE sails away in a stately Ship 

Into the red of the burning West 

On to the golden Sun: 
She 's gone along with the rising Tide 

On to the Land of Far Away 

Over the crimson Sea. 

I gaze, alone, on the dying shore 
Into the red of a full-blown Rose 
Kissed by the lips I Love: 

For I go along with the falling Night 
Back to the Land of Everyday, 
Over the singing rails. 




La Voyageur 



® 



ITH my left hand to the North 

I 've sailed to the edge of the East 
While back of the ship for a day and a night 

The white gulls sped at the stern. 
And then for days and many nights 

I Ve been with the Skies and the Seas, 
Alone, and far from the land I sought. 

With never a sign of Life. 

And yet in the darkest hour of night 

I 've heard the scream of the gulls. 
And with the morning I 've seen them flying, 

Hailing the good ship home. 
And though no land was yet in sight 

I knew by these white-winged birds, 
The land I sought was drawing near 

And the lips of the one I Loved. 

With my right hand to the North 

I 've come to the edge of the West : 
Down to the red-gold setting Sun 

I 've sped with the full-lived years. 
The white gulls cluster above my head. 

The land is just beyond: 
The God I have sought is waiting there. 

And the Life of the one I Love. 



41 



© 



Who Are The Blind? 



AP, tap: O mother, look 

At the old, old man with a stick. 
Click, click: how fast he walks. 

And mother, where are his eyes? 



(I 've seen them go, and wondered, 
They were so straight and sure: 

While brothers, with wide open eyes. 
And light, moved groping in the dark.) 

Tap, tap : he 's blind you say. 
My mother, that old, old man. 

Click, click: O mother, dear. 
And why does he not have eyes.'' 

(I 've seen the dead walk in the streets. 
And the dead, so living, still in death: 

And I have wondered, and wonder, 
\^Tiy we all of us can not see.) 




43 



Optimists 



I 



F Pain were not past Pleasure recalled. 
And Humour never mended an ill: 

If the most of Woman was bad, not good. 
And Heaven and Hell did n't coincide: 

Only then, we '11 admit, we 'd be sad. 




Turn never scorn on Life that kissed you. 
What e'er the badinage of Sex may build, 
Forget the striving, keep forever sweet the Love. 






Printed by 

THE ROYCROFTERS 

at theif Print Shop 

which is located in 

East Aurora 

New York 



